


A Hole in the Ship

by wheel_pen



Series: Khan AU [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident on the Enterprise allows Khan and Ruby to show how useful Augments can be, when they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hole in the Ship

**Author's Note:**

> The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.  
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

Khan sat back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, idly sketching on a pad of paper. Apparently most artists drew on electronic tablets these days, unless they had some sort of philosophy about preserving ancient crafting techniques, but Khan found that approach too cold and lifeless for his tastes, lacking the tactile quality of a pencil lead scritching over rough paper fibers. It was certainly more pragmatic, though, and he felt confident he would soon adapt the modern method to his will.

Ruby was on his bed, reading a book—also electronic—but he could tell her attention was straying. He looked up and met her gaze, and she quickly glanced away. It was hard for her to comprehend all the things that had happened in the universe since she went to sleep—that there _was_ a universe, in fact, for practical purposes, full of reachable planets and alien life. And also, he readily admitted, it was hard for her to reconcile herself to the things he’d done when he was last awakened, to the things they’d _all_ done during the wars. He was not an especially good companion in this regard, useless at sympathizing. That was _her_ job. And, why Kirk needed to get over his paranoia and awaken Hamish as well.

Ruby shifted on the bed again, drawing his attention. He would call it a distraction but he wasn’t actually doing anything important. “What?” he asked her anyway.

“People are anxious,” she replied. He wondered if she’d been waiting long for him to ask.

“Humans are always anxious,” Khan dismissed. “Their fragile—“

“More than usual,” she interrupted, before he could get further into his disdainful speech. He shrugged in response, focused on keeping his constantly-simmering frustration in check; he had no idea what was going on beyond their quarters, he was not _allowed_ to know, even to see a view outside the ship. He had to find it in himself to accept that, for the time being. “I think—I think they’re—“

The ship shuddered, enough to knock tablets off the desk, and alarm sirens began to blare in the hall. Khan straightened immediately, trying to deduce what little he could from the sound and motion of the ship. “An impact,” he decided quickly. Footsteps pounded past their door. “Damage.”

“ _Very_ anxious,” Ruby reported, equally alert. “Fear. Panic.”

“No return fire, not an attack,” he judged. “Accident? Natural phenomena? Did they _run over_ something?” His tone was scoffing now.

“No emotions beyond the ship,” Ruby told him, so it didn’t involve another ship or space station, or inhabited planet. “It must be serious. I think people might be dead.” This idea troubled her.

“Not _our_ people?” Khan asked immediately, urgently. He scanned quickly through the display panel he always kept on, showing the vitals for the Augments in the cargo bay. All the lines were still green and appropriately squiggly, but when it came to something like this Khan didn’t trust indirect reports. “Can you still feel them all?”

Ruby’s frown was not reassuring. “I don’t know, I think so, there’s so much happening—“

Khan slapped the button that connected them to Sickbay. “McCoy! Is my crew safe?”

“ _Little busy, Khan!_ ” the doctor snapped in return.

Khan didn’t care. “McCoy—“ If he was not set at ease he would find out for himself, personally.

“ _They should be fine, hull breach is on the other side of the ship_ ,” McCoy spat. “ _I’ll get back to you later_.” He cut the channel.

Ruby stared at Khan with wide eyes. “A hull breach,” she whispered in fear.

“We’ll be fine,” he told her automatically. “We don’t need nearly as much oxygen as they do.” That was hardly the only threat a hull breach posed, however, and he was preoccupied thinking of his seventy-one helpless family members in the cargo hold. But Khan thought quickly, and he acted decisively. That’s why he was the leader. Of some, anyway.

He tapped a series of buttons—it was more complex to call the Bridge. “Kirk!” he demanded. “Let us out, we can help.”

“ _Not now, Khan!_ ” Kirk said sharply, like he was an errant child.

Khan held back a snarl, feeling Ruby absorb his anger like a sponge soaking up blood. “We’re faster and stronger, Kirk,” he reminded the other man. “Where’s the breach?”

He was muted momentarily, and imagined Kirk consulting with Mr. Spock, whose logical conclusion could only be to use all of the resources at their disposal, when lives were at stake. It wasn’t like Khan and Ruby could _run away_ through the pierced hull of the ship, after all.

Kirk came back on. “ _Section C, level thirteen_ ,” he admitted, reluctance in his voice. “ _Wait for_ —“ But Khan was already out the unlocked door, hand in hand with Ruby.

He flew past their guards heedlessly; he heard them shout, but he and Ruby were around the corner, taking a shortcut through a Jeffries tube, before they could decide what to do. Presumably at some point they would be told this was not an escape attempt. Rather pathetic level of security, anyway.

The affected area of the ship was buzzing with activity, emergency medical personnel, engineers, security scrambling through the corridor. Remarkably less chaotic than Khan had been imagining—they had _some_ discipline, _some_ training, then. Khan snatched a scanner from someone that indicated the positions of survivors on the other side of the emergency forcefield—much faster than asking—then tossed it back and grabbed another showing the rapidly worsening environmental conditions.

“Open this door,” he ordered no one in particular, positioning himself for the leap inside.

“You’ll need a suit—“ some anonymous person protested, from halfway inside a bulky spacesuit.

“You’re losing people!” Khan warned.

“Open the door.” Kirk’s voice, in person, but Khan didn’t look at him, because the door opened and the forcefield dropped, and Khan leaped into the wrecked portion of the ship, its thin atmosphere bleeding out to space through the glitchy energy field pasted over the gaping hole in the hull. A field of stars glittered beyond it, like the universe’s best observation deck; Khan took in the view in a heartbeat, to savor later. Right now he had humans to save.

He went left, Ruby went right, perfectly coordinated with the briefest words and gestures. He lifted a bulkhead fragment off someone easily and dragged him up, practically throwing him back through the doorway to safety. Another pile of twisted metal covered another survivor; now there were people in spacesuits behind him to scoop her up themselves. He and Ruby literally did the heavy lifting, tossing equipment and structural debris aside like household rubbish, then darting away to the next faint life sign. It took _some_ effort; it caused _some_ pain. It gave _some_ satisfaction, even if they were only rescuing fragile humans.

Khan paused at the far end of the room, adrenaline pumping through him. “Is that all?” he shouted, confident the other rescuers would hear him. He and Ruby had freed everyone who had been alive when he saw the room scan.

“ _That’s it_.” Kirk’s voice echoed over the intercom. “ _Come back_.”

But Khan looked to Ruby, who had her eyes closed in concentration. Sometimes she could detect unconscious people, though one would think they’d be emotionless at that point. Khan knew better than to question her abilities and merely followed her as she moved closer to the hole in the ship’s side. The emergency forcefield was not meant to hold for long; it crackled and fizzed instead of glowing steadily as it struggled to keep the cold vacuum of space at bay. Outside giant lumps of rock tumbled past—the ship had meandered into an asteroid field, apparently, and one of the larger chunks had been too much for its defensive measures. Khan of course did not know all the particulars; but he felt safe in judging that he and _his_ crew would have avoided this problem.

“ _Khan, get back here, you got them all_ ,” Kirk ordered. He sounded exasperated rather than grateful, not that Khan cared either way. There was a pause, then Kirk added grimly, “ _We’ll retrieve the bodies later._ ”

It was not a corpse Khan and Ruby were looking for, though. “Here,” Ruby announced, pointing to a pile of debris, and together they tossed the loose objects aside.

Khan grabbed her wrist before she could remove the last twisted chunk of metal, however, His eyes had already darted over the haphazard construction of the pile, their greater sensitivity taking in more details that his more efficient brain converted into a three-dimensional image. Removing the debris that shielded the final survivor would also dislodge the debris that blocked another, smaller hole in the hull. Presumably, the humans’ sensors had not detected this person’s body heat because it was rapidly bleeding away into space through the hole they had _also_ failed to detect. Khan was unimpressed. The humans were mostly interchangeable and pointless to him; but they were _Kirk’s_ crew, _he_ should see that as many as possible were able to be saved. And this one would have been lost if not for Khan. And Ruby.

“ _Khan_ —“ Kirk said again.

“Move away from the doors,” Khan ordered. “Be prepared to open them on my command, and close them as soon as we’re through.”

“ _Ready_ ,” Kirk agreed, having no choice in the moment except to trust in Khan.

Khan looked at Ruby, who nodded her understanding. In one swift movement Khan dislodged the debris, Ruby snatched up the huddled crewmember, and Khan propelled them back across the room in defiance of the sudden suction drawing everything to the uncovered hole. “Door!” he shouted, and it opened, allowing the three of them to tumble into the corridor. Then it snapped shut, preserving the atmosphere of the ship’s interior.

Kirk was irritated at him. “Khan, what’re you—“

“No pulse, but there’s minimal brain activity,” McCoy announced, kneeling over the woman Ruby had laid out on the floor. He began injecting her with chemicals, placing devices on her body.

“She’s alive?” Kirk asked, breaking away from Khan. His voice held a pleasing amount of concern and desperate hope.

“Not for long,” McCoy replied briskly. “McCoy to Trans—“ Before he could complete the order he saw Ruby slash her wrist open with a sharp fingernail and press the dripping vein to the unconscious woman’s mouth.

“What’s she—“ Khan stopped Kirk from getting closer, his expression dispassionately curious.

“Brain oxygen rising, pulse increasing,” McCoy reported incredulously, staring at his tricorder. He gestured to the anti-gravity stretcher two workers had brought. “Stable for transport. Get her up, let’s go.” They jogged off, leaving Ruby kneeling on the floor holding her wrist.

Something about her appeared vulnerable, Khan surmised, which was not a surprise to him—he had just momentarily forgotten how deeply it could affect humans, until Kirk went to her, helped her stand, his hands lingering on her shoulders. “Are you alright?” he asked her earnestly, while Khan watched with amusement.

“Yes. Our blood can heal injuries—“ Ruby started to explain.

“Oh, they know,” Khan assured her. McCoy had helped himself liberally to Khan’s blood to save Kirk from radiation poisoning, after all. It was no matter to Khan, just another superior tool he could use to achieve his goals. “You may use our blood to repair your crewmembers,” he offered to Kirk, trying to sound generous. It probably came off more like grand. “We give it freely.” Having read up on the Federation’s laws he knew informed consent was supposed to be an important tenet, though naturally Kirk and his crew broke that when it suited them.

Kirk was not sure what to say to that. “Thank you,” he finally replied, almost automatic. “I’ll be in Sickbay.” Khan started to follow. “Uh, you two can go back to your quarters,” Kirk added, jogging away.

Khan shrugged and went over to Ruby. “That’s humans for you,” he noted without enthusiasm.

“He’ll come to see us later,” she predicted thoughtfully. “He’s just worried about his crew right now.”

Khan snorted, unconvinced, but deferred to her judgment on that matter. “Back we go,” he commented, taking her hand. They began to stroll towards their quarters in a leisurely manner, in contrast to the flurry of engineers working around them. Khan planned to make a detour and stop by the cargo bay where his own crew was held, just to make sure they were completely alright. “Oh, your dress is torn,” he pointed out to Ruby.

“So’s your shirt,” she noted, poking at a hole in his sleeve. “I think I can sew them up.”

Khan rolled his eyes. “Unnecessary. Their manufacturing capabilities are superior to what you remember,” he told her. “We’ll have new clothes.”

“Well, maybe I can use them for quilt squares, then,” she decided.

“Waste not, want not,” Khan agreed. It was a good thing to remember in preparation for their new, as-yet-undiscovered home.

**

In Sickbay Kirk was surveying the damage to his crew with a sober expression. The ship could be repaired. But the people could not, at least not all of them. “How’s it look, Bones?” he asked, when the doctor seemed marginally less busy.

“Sixteen injured, three critical, four unaccounted for,” he summed up bluntly. Kirk knew from experience his tone didn’t mean McCoy didn’t care; just the opposite, in fact.

“Presumed dead,” Kirk finished, of the missing four. Once the breach was properly sealed they would look for bodies, though some could have been lost to space. It went without saying Kirk mourned the loss of his crewmembers; but he wouldn’t be a very good captain if he let it devastate or paralyze him. The decisions he made every day usually put _someone_ on the ship in danger; he just had to hope the risk was worth it.

“Khan said you could use his and Ruby’s blood to treat patients,” Kirk added, in a somewhat lighter tone.

McCoy looked at him. “Mighty tempting,” he admitted frankly. “Lt. Washoe was a goner before Ruby gave her some blood. Now she’s off the critical list, probably be up and about in a couple of days.”

“That’s incredible,” Kirk acknowledged, for the record.

McCoy’s voice held a similar reluctance. “Some of the minor injuries could walk out of here today, be back at work tomorrow with a little Augment blood,” he went on. “I figure half a CC a week to each crew member would be the best preventative medicine ever.”

“You figure?” Kirk repeated with a raised eyebrow, as if surprised McCoy had thought about it that much.

The doctor shrugged unapologetically. “That’s my job, finding ways to heal people.” Like Kirk, though, he wasn’t leaping for any of the vials of Khan and Ruby’s blood he had stored away already.

“Maybe for critical cases, emergencies,” Kirk suggested. “Do we know if it even works on non-humans?”

“Well, the tribbles,” McCoy reminded him. “They’re not very discerning, though. I can start some experiments.”

“I don’t—“ Kirk was not sure how to explain his unease. “What if there’s side effects?”

“Feelings of megalomania?” McCoy joked dryly, as he had when Kirk had first awakened from his own treatment. “Do you feel in thrall to Khan now?”

Kirk rolled his eyes. “No. It just—it doesn’t seem like a good idea to become dependent on him,” he finally said. “I can’t say it’s better to let someone die, if you have something that will cure them. But the goal is to put Khan and his crew on a planet and leave them there,” he reminded McCoy unnecessarily. “Eventually the supply of his blood will run out, and we don’t want people to have a reason to find him and ask for more.” McCoy nodded his understanding. “I don’t suppose you’ve figured out _why_ his blood cures people, so you can replicate it?” he asked hopefully.

McCoy snorted. “Sure. You saw the Tarkalean Medical Prize trophy on my shelf, didn’t you?” he said sarcastically. “Scratch that—people would be naming prizes after _me_. It’s—the whole ecosystem of his blood,” he tried to explain, mindful of his audience. “Proteins, DNA, pH, different cell types, all working together to find and repair injuries. It’s a marvel of engineering—people did it once, under much more primitive conditions, so maybe they’ll find a way to do it again.” He shrugged. “Seems doubtful, though.”

“Not sure I want anyone to have incentive to try making Augment blood again,” Kirk decided darkly.

“It _would_ seem convenient to just make Augments at the same time,” McCoy agreed. And nobody wanted that—genetic engineering of sentient beings had left such a bad impression after the Eugenics Wars that it had been banned throughout the Federation. And thanks to Khan’s behavior the last time he was awake, that distaste had only been reinforced.

“Well, only when nothing else will work,” Kirk judged finally.

“I’ll draft some protocols,” McCoy promised. “Don’t think I’ll need to break it out right now, my three criticals are stable at the moment.”

Kirk nodded, not looking forward to reading another dry list of ethical considerations for medical treatment, but he knew he couldn’t just dump the burden of decision-making on McCoy and run off. Not in an extraordinary situation like this. That was why he was the captain—to make the hard decisions. “Keep me informed,” he said crisply, and left.

**

“Kirk’s coming,” Ruby reported from the bed, where she was attempting to sew up her torn dress.

“To thank us?” Khan assumed, setting his reading pad aside. He felt it was overdue.

“Don’t poke at him too much,” Ruby cautioned. “People died, you know.”

“Far fewer, because of us,” he pointed out, but Ruby’s expression didn’t change and he sighed in concession.

She tossed a t-shirt at him, as he’d discarded the torn shirt he’d been wearing earlier, and rolled her eyes when he looked perplexed. “Put it on, it will make him more comfortable.”

“Why should I—“ Ruby blinked at him and he tugged the t-shirt on over his head. Khan would not be a good leader if he was blind to his own… faults? Weaknesses? Areas where he had reduced expertise? He felt the last description was the most accurate, though it lacked finesse. He would work on that. At any rate, Ruby possessed insight into other people that Khan did not, and it would be foolish to disregard that. Even if he really didn’t care about making Kirk comfortable. “You’re not cleaning up for him, are you?” he asked narrowly, watching her start to put things away.

“I’m just—“ Now _he_ gave _her_ a look, and she stopped and went back to the bed. Balance in everything.

The door chimed. “Come in,” Khan allowed, watching Ruby fidget with her hair and clothes. It amused him, in an affectionate way.

The doors parted and Kirk stepped inside the room warily, as if prepared for an attack. Instead he merely found Khan and Ruby lounging, looking at him expectantly. “Hello, Captain Kirk,” Ruby greeted, knowing Khan wouldn’t. “Would you like to sit down?” She gestured towards the couch.

Kirk knew what had been done to that couch, or rather _on_ it, but he _didn’t_ know what the cleaning schedule was, so he thought it best to decline. “No, thanks, I’m fine,” he assured her.

“And how’s your crew?” Ruby asked him earnestly. “Are the ones in Sickbay doing alright?”

Ruby was so much more pleasant to deal with than Khan, it was hard not to respond to her. “McCoy says they’re stable,” Kirk conveyed, trying to remember his argument for why he _shouldn’t_ respond to her. “Thank you for giving some of your blood to Lt. Washoe, that’s the only thing that saved her.” Ruby beamed at him, and Kirk found himself returning the smile.

“I like to help people,” Ruby said to him. “If Dr. McCoy needs anymore blood, or any help in Sickbay, I’ll be happy to go.”

“Careful, Kirk,” Khan finally said, a smirk twisting his face. “Augments can be addictive.” He was not just talking about the blood.

Kirk squared his shoulders and turned away from Ruby, who made things so easy, to Khan, who had no interest in making things easy. Indeed the man watched him with a studiously patient expression, well aware of why Kirk had come. But Kirk tried to rise above that—they had done well, and it was only right that he show his gratitude for that.

“I appreciate what you did for my crew,” he told Khan, stiff but sincere. “We couldn’t have saved as many without your help. Thank you.” Khan looked as if he expected more, a more grandiose speech or perhaps his (non-existent) ring being kissed, but Kirk felt he’d expressed himself sufficiently.

He could practically _see_ Ruby giving Khan a mental nudge. “We accept your thanks, Kirk,” he replied, clearly finding it no more than they were due. “I hope you will consider our actions as a gesture of good faith,” he went on, having prepared his own grandiose speech. “Naturally as long as my family and I are aboard your vessel, we have no wish to see it damaged.” Technically not the same as wanting to protect the crew, but whatever. “I noted several areas in which I think improvements can be made, which I… would be happy to discuss with you… at a later time.”

Kirk’s eyebrows rose at Khan’s uncharacteristic hesitation, but when he followed the man’s slight glare to Ruby, innocent-looking as always, he thought perhaps he understood a bit better. She was, Kirk assumed, somehow conveying to Khan that _now_ was not the time to discuss Kirk’s failures, which he quite appreciated.

“I would be interested in your observations,” Kirk replied diplomatically, “once things have calmed down.”

“Of course,” Khan agreed loftily, as if that had been his plan all along.

“Thank you for coming by, Captain,” Ruby told him graciously, giving him an exit line.

He nodded and started to leave, then at the last second thought of something else and forced himself to turn back. “Hey, are you guys okay?” he asked, belated though it was.

Khan couldn’t hold back a sarcastic chuckle, and Kirk rolled his eyes at him. This was more comfortable territory for both of them, adversarial instead of sincere. Ruby hurried to reply. “We’re fine, thank you, Captain.”

“We need new clothes,” Khan put in.

“Right, contact the quartermaster,” Kirk allowed.

“And _my_ crew are fine, by the way,” Khan added, pointedly.

“I know, I checked already,” Kirk said, and walked out the door.

There was silence for a moment. “Hmm, he checked already,” Khan repeated thoughtfully. He had no way to verify that, of course, but he wasn’t sure Kirk was devious enough to claim such a thing when it wasn’t true. He could’ve gotten well away just saying something like ‘good to know.’

“They’re on his ship, they’re his responsibility,” Ruby said.

This was meant to be supportive of Kirk, but it made Khan find his actions less remarkable. “Just like any cargo he was promised to deliver,” he scoffed. _He_ was responsible for his crew, his family. He had little power to do anything for them right now, which was frustrating; but obviously staying on Kirk’s good side was a calculated part of the plan.

Ruby went back to her sewing, even though Kirk had promised replacement clothes. “I think he’ll let us do more now,” she judged happily.

“I want to spar with that large green fellow.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” she advised sagely.


End file.
